Chapter eleven

Make it right

Elsa hadn't expected to feel better the next morning, and she really didn't. She'd managed a decent six hours of sleep or so, but all the guilty thoughts buzzing around in her head simply picked up where they had left off. On days like this, she knew, the best thing to do was roll out of bed and carry on as normal, progressing on as best she could with the tasks in front of her.

Hurrying down to the bathroom, she allowed herself a lukewarm shower, and took an analytical look at what she had to do in the day ahead as her brain revved up to full capacity. She needed to be there for Anna, that was a good baseline, but what form should that take? What exactly did Anna need from her?

Well, breakfast would be a good start.

Her stomach rumbled in agreement. A nice, hefty breakfast would get her mind revving, and ideally would also get Anna out of bed, as had been the case a few times that week. It felt like the only times Anna emerged from her room were to directly hang out with her, a front she was determined to push anyway. With a full stomach, maybe she'd have more luck in thinking up something more substantial to do the rest of the day.

Finishing her shower, she got dressed and headed downstairs, walking quietly past Anna's closed door along the way. The sun was only just starting to rise, making her think that maybe she had jumped the gun with the breakfast plan. Then, as she walked by the living room, she saw a faint glow around the couch. The mystery was solved when Anna stood up from the shadows, leaving her phone behind. "Hey Elsa," she said.

Elsa was slightly taken aback. "Anna?" she said. "Uh, good morning."

Anna glanced out the window. "Guess it is, yeah," she said.

"What are you doing up this early?* Elsa asked.

"Well, nothing," Anna said. "Absolutely nothing, you might say." She saw Elsa reaching for the lamp on the end table. "Hey, maybe don't-"

Click

It was a low intensity bulb, but Anna still winced at the light. "Sorry," Elsa said, switching it back off in a hurry. Nevertheless, the single glimpse of Anna in the light had told her all she needed to know. From the bloodshot eyes to the too-alert posture, she surmised that her dear sister had gotten about six hours of sleep less than she herself had. "Couldn't get to bed?" she asked sympathetically.

Anna nodded. "I was tossing and turning," she said.

"Bet you're hungry now, eh?" Elsa asked.

"Starving," Anna said.

"Well, I can sure fix that," Elsa said. "Any requests?"

"Well, uh," Anna said, suddenly bashful, "I don't know if you saw, but I put tater tots on the grocery list a few days back."

Elsa nodded. "Sure did," she said with a grin.

Despite her encouragement, Anna still looked embarrassed. "Well, I mean, I know it's kind of a kiddie food," she mumbled. "And I could probably just stick them in the air fryer for a few minutes, but you know, it's loud, so I didn't want to wake you up, and since I'm already-"

Elsa silenced her with a gesture. "Oh, I'll make you some tater tots," she said, her smile widening. "And I'll make them right."

Tater tots. Green onions. Mozzarella cheese. Diced bacon. A dash of olive oil. None of these ingredients were particularly impressive, but from the rapturous way Anna watched her cook, you'd think a ten course masterpiece was being prepared before her very eyes. It could've just been how hungry she was,, but…no, Elsa could admit that she was, at the very least, a damn good cook.

Getting into cooking was a decision she'd not regretted in the slightest. It was fun, rewarding, and it helped fill the evenings. Living on her own, though, it was little more than a hobby. No matter how lavish a dish she cooked up, at the end of the day, nobody else would ever see it, a fact driven home by the words Serves 2-3 at the top of so many of her favorite recipes. The rare office potluck gave her a taste of cooking for an audience, but having a live spectator was a whole different experience – one she could get used to.

Eventually the potatoes turned to gold, then began to brown. Elsa lifted the skillet and stirred. "Plates," she instructed Anna.

"On it!" Anna said. She headed for the cabinet, then paused. After a moment it's thought, she bolted from the room.

"Anna?" Elsa called, confused. She craned her neck, trying to see where she had gone. Then she heard some rustling in the dining room, and she couldn't help but smile. "You dork," she muttered.

Moments later, Anna returned with two of their fancy plates. "For such haute cuisine as this, only the finest china will do," she said, grinning from ear to ear.

"If you say so," said Elsa with a laugh. She began to dole the tots out onto the two plates, making sure to put any mashed ones or blackened onions onto her own plate. "Bon appetit."

"Merci beaucoup," Anna replied. "Want some orange juice?"

"That sounds lovely," Elsa answered.

"All right," Anna said. She reached into the cabinet and pulled out a pair of tumblers.

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "What, no fancy glasses?" she said.

Anna shook her head. "Too small," she said. She walked behind Elsa, heading for the fridge.

Then she turned her head and kissed Elsa on the cheek.

Any lingering drowsiness was flushed out of her system in an instant. She turned to face Anna, eyes wide. Anna seemed a little jolted as well, but she quickly smiled. "And the juice wasn't made with love," she said, then continued on her way.

Elsa set the skillet down a little too hard, then placed her hands on the counter to steady herself. Breathing quickly, she looked down into the empty skillet and tried to parse what had just happened.

Easy, Elsa, easy – this doesn't mean anything. She's kissed you on the cheek plenty of times before.

But of course, that explanation just didn't cut it. She'd explicitly told Anna that kissing her wouldn't be a good idea, and she'd just gone and done it, unprompted and without warning. Was this her declaring that she didn't care how it made her feel? Because if it was, she was wrong to feel that way. She shouldn't want to kiss her at all – she knew too well that she did not deserve it.

And yet she did it anyway. Has it occurred to you that Anna also got something out of those kisses? In other words, yet another thing that you took from her when you left?

Elsa's shoulders slackened. At last, her voice of reason had kicked in, dutifully trampling the butterflies in her stomach. Leave it to her to not only make a mountain out of a molehill, but also to make everything about herself. If Anna wanted to kiss her, that was just something she'd have to deal with. It didn't mean anything more than that she just wanted to mend their relationship that much more.

That's what she needs from me right now, and I'll be damned if I can't give at least that much to her.

"Hey Elsa, everything okay?"

Elsa jolted up. "Yeah, yeah, just…" She grabbed the salt and pepper shakers from the stove's backboard. "Getting the seasoning done."

Of course, she'd had her back to Anna starting from that kiss. Thus, she hadn't seen Anna's flushed cheeks, or the shaky hand that had poured their orange juice. By the time Elsa had turned to face her, Anna looked no worse for the wear as she awaited her breakfast.

See? Everything is as it should be.

So she walked to the table with a spring in her step.